


Heart of the Matter

by bookwormforalways



Series: what the future holds [6]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Bellarke, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6110518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormforalways/pseuds/bookwormforalways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke's father died she was devastated. Doctors tried to comfort her by saying he had been an organ donor and had saved many lives. Clarke didn't care, she just wanted her father back. </p><p>Five years later, while sharing an office with the smug and infuriating Bellamy Blake, she learns something that will change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of the Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by watching The Best of Me (based on the Nicholas Sparks book) and reading "The Things We Know By Heart" by Jessi Kirby. 
> 
> It was one of those nights where I should have been working on my WIP, but this fic happened instead.

Clarke fell to her knees in the hospital waiting room at the words of the ER doctor. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound escaped. She felt her eyes grow heated, but no tears fell. 

As soon as she had got the call from her mother, Clarke had rushed out of her first period art history class and raced to the hospital. 

But it wasn’t soon enough, not even to say goodbye. 

Clarke’s father had died. He had been on his way to work, driving the same car along the same route at the same time as he had done every day for the past twenty years. Only today, another car hadn’t stopped at their red light, instead, they raced through and Clarke’s father’s car had been unable to stop on time. 

He had been rushed to the hospital, barely holding on to his life. But he soon succumbed to his injuries. 

When Clarke had finally managed to pull herself into a chair in the waiting room, she let herself collapse in her mother’s arms. In that moment she forgot how angry she had been at her mother for the last year, and she simply allowed herself to be comforted. The tears finally came. 

A few moments later, the doctor re-emerged from behind those swinging doors of uncertainty. His face was still fallen, despite being hardened by many years of the unrelenting grief of losing patients in the operating room. He clutched a clipboard and small plastic bag. 

“Mrs. Griffin, Clarke. I’m so terribly sorry for your loss. Unfortunately I just need to bother you for a signature in order to release your husband’s personal belongings back to you.”

He handed Clarke’s mother the clipboard for the signature, and to Clarke he handed to plastic bag. It contained two items: a watch that had continued to work even when her father’s heart had stopped, and a small medallion on a necklace that her father had always worn around his neck, tucked under his shirt against his heart. 

Clarke’s heart broke in two when she saw these items in their isolated plastic bag, torn away from her father. 

As the doctor collected the clipboard back, he paused. “If it’s any consolation, Jake was a registered organ donor. I hope you might be able to find a small bit of comfort in the fact that he managed to save nine lives today.”

Clarke held the bag to her chest, the watch still ticking. Still ticking because her father’s heart was too. 

And while the Griffins were grieving the loss of their father, another family across town was rejoicing in the shock and surprise of receiving the phone call that a heart had been found. 

 

__________________

 

(Five years later)

*Beep! Beep! Beep!* 

Clarke smacked off her alarm, waking her from a delightful dream where the world was free from Bellamy Blake. He was her absolute nemesis, her archenemy, and she cringed as she left that delightful dream world knowing she would be seeing that godawful smirk in an hour. That annoying smirk on his unfairly attractive body.

Groaning, she got up out of bed and into the shower. She managed to dry her hair, and throw it in a respectable ponytail, before throwing on a few clothes that were definitely on their last wear before needing a wash - she had picked them up off the floor after all. 

She grabbed her bag, quickly filled her travel mug to the brim with coffee, and was about to rush out the door when her appearance in the mirror made her freeze. 

Her father’s medallion was hanging visibly on the outside of her shirt. Clarke quickly tucked it under, patting it over her heart once for good luck, before racing out the door. Today, it was five years. 

She was going to be late. Again. And Mr. Smirky-face was never going to let her live it down, and she so did not want to deal with that today. 

 

——

 

“You’re late.” Clarke heard him call as she pulled open the wooden door of her office. Well, her shared office. It had been just her luck that after competing mercilessly with the one and only Bellamy Blake for top grades in her last three years of university, they had both ended up applying to the same research jobs within their school’s liberal arts faculty. Clarke has landed a job within her field of art history, and Bellamy for classical studies. Somehow that meant that they were required to share a teeny tiny little office tucked away in the corner of the arts hallway. There were two desks crammed together in the centre of the room, with just enough room for them both to squeeze into their chairs. They had one bookshelf to share under the window, and endless fights had occurred about organization methods, and who was taking up the most space. 

“By two minutes. I’m sorry I actually stopped at the red light and waited to cross like every normal person rather than jaywalking and risking my life in order to be here on time.” Clarke snapped back at him. She squeezed herself into her chair and set about unpacking her bag and her laptop, shuffling through a few papers her supervisor had left on her desk. 

“C’mon, life’s too short to live on the safe side,” he teased, pushing up his dark-framed glasses on his nose. 

Clarke rolled her eyes, “Well maybe you should go live on the dangerous side for a while, I’d like some peace and quiet in here. Some of us have a lot of work to get done.” 

“Ohh, shots fired,” Bellamy grinned. “But maybe if you got here on time, you would be able to manage your workload better.”

It took every fibre of Clarke’s being to not throw her mug of coffee across their desks onto his smug face. She bit her lip and forced herself to look down at her work, feeling the red hot pulse of anger crash through her. 

The office was quiet for a few moments, and Clarke lost herself in an article. Until she heard a faint tap, tap, tap. Looking up she saw it was Bellamy bouncing his pen on the edge of his desk. Of course! She let out a deep sigh of frustration, causing Bellamy to look up, his eyes dancing with pure immaturity. 

You’re an adult, Clarke. She told herself. Do not throw the scissors at Bellamy Blake. Do not throw a stapler at his stupid glasses. Do not throw an open Sharpie on his white button-up shirt, the one that’s rolled up to his elbow, showing off his muscular arms —— She caught herself. Do not go there Clarke. Don’t even think about it. 

_________

 

By the time lunch rolled around, Clarke had had enough. So much so that she had even scheduled an impromptu meeting with her supervisor, Professor Jaha, that afternoon just to escape Bellamy Blake for even five minutes. Her usual meal was spent with Raven, her closest friend who was in her final year at school, and they met in the cafe on campus. Today, however, she was not in the mood to go out. Her plan was actually to scarf down an apple and a granola bar while she kept working, and hopefully she would be able to leave a few minutes early. Anything to get away from Bellamy Blake. 

As the clock hit noon, Bellamy looked up, probably curious as to why Clarke remained seated at her desk. She usually dashed out a few minutes early. 

“Late to work, late to lunch, late for everything today, eh princess?” He smirked. Bellamy closed the book he was reading, putting a pen in-between the pages to mark his place. 

Clarke glared at him. “Stop calling me princess. And I’m not going out for lunch today.”

His eyes widened in surprise behind his glasses. “Well that’s new,” he commented as he reached his arms up over his head, stretching. His phone beeped, catching his attention. But one hand absently rubbed his chest as he read the text, right over his heart, for a moment before falling back to his desk. 

Clarke wasn’t sure if it was some kind of neurotic habit, but she had noticed he placed his hand over his chest a lot. She also wasn’t sure if he did this without thinking, or if he had realized this small gesture could remind her of her painful past. And on today of all days. 

“So,” he began as he glanced back up from his phone, “I thought you’d be going out for lunch today, like, you know, every single day. But, umm, my sister’s coming over for lunch in like a minute.” 

“Oh,” Clarke muttered. As much as she liked his bubbly sister, whom she had met in various classes over the years, there was no way Clarke would be able to get any work done while the Blake siblings were in the office. To say they got loud when they were together, was an understatement. 

Bellamy caught Clarke’s eye. “O and I’ll find somewhere else to eat so you can keep working.”

Clarke shrugged, not wanting to give away how much she wanted to happy dance at the thought of a whole Blake-less hour. They sure were a distraction. 

Suddenly their office door was flung open. “Happy heart day, Bell!” a musical voice shouted, as a whirlwind of brunette hair and wild energy entered their tiny cubicle. 

“O-“ Bellamy began, glancing over at Clarke. 

“Oh, hey Clarke!” Octavia called, “Are you joining us for celebrations today?” 

Clarke noticed Bellamy’s sister held a plate of cupcakes, along with a Chinese take-out bag. They were decorated with hearts. 

“What are we celebrating exactly?” Clarke asked, at the same time as Bellamy tried to tell O that they had to leave. 

“It’s Bell’s heart day,” Octavia began. 

“O, c’mon, let’s just get out of Clarke’s way —“ Bellamy pleaded, as he stood up and tried to usher his sister out of the office. 

But Octavia kept talking right over him. “Bell probably hasn’t told you, because you guys are such great friends and all..” The sarcasm was thick in her voice, but then her bubbly nature took over again. “But he was really sick a few years ago, a heart condition. And well, five years ago today, he had a successful transplant!” 

Time stopped. Five years ago. Today. Clarke noticed the look of pure joy on Octavia’s face. She saw Bellamy wince as he absentmindedly rubbed his hand over his chest - over his scar, and the heart that wasn’t really his. And she felt her jaw drop, her hand gripping her father’s medallion through her shirt. And then everything went black. 

…

“Clarke? Clarke? Are you okay?” Her vision returned hazily, and she saw a blurry hand moving in front of her eyes. Her head stung with a pounding pain. 

Her vision focused and she saw Bellamy was crouched in front of her. 

“Clarke, can you hear me?” he asked earnestly. She could feel the heat from his hands holding her steady in her chair. 

She nodded. “Wh-what happened?” 

“You fainted, and fell back, smacking your head on the wall. You were out cold for a few seconds there.” Bellamy answered. 

“Maybe she should have a cupcake,” Octavia offered, “Get some sugar back in her blood.”

Octavia held a cupcake in front of Clarke, but all Clarke could see was the giant red icing heart in the centre. 

A heart. And it all came flooding back. Five years ago today her dad died. He was an organ donor. Five years ago today Bellamy got a new heart. Could it be? Had her father been taken from the world to save this smug bastard?!? 

Anger flew through Clarke’s veins. She smacked the cupcake out of Octavia’s hand, and it flew in the air, landing with a splat on Bellamy’s desk. 

“Get it away from me,” she roared. She threw Bellamy’s hands off of her, and pushed him out of the way. She ducked out of the door and ran down the hallway. She was halfway down the stairs before she realized she had forgotten her purse in the office and had no keys and no cell phone on her. Clarke crumpled into a heap on the wooden stair landing and clutched the medallion under her shirt, tears streaming down her face. 

“Clarke, are you alright?” She heard Bellamy’s gentle voice from the top of the stairs. “What happened back there?” 

She looked at him, staring at him with blue tear-soaked eyes. “My dad died five years ago today.” 

Bellamy’s mouth fell into a surprised gasp. He sat down on the step nearest to Clarke, his silence allowing her to continue. 

“He was an organ donor, and I’ve corresponded with all of the recipients, every one of them. Except for the heart. All I know is that it went to some 22 year old male in the state. That jerk never replied to my letter.”

Bellamy’s eyes flashed with recognition. “Wait. You’re the girl who wrote to me, telling me all about your dad. And about the medallion…” He trailed off, his gaze dipping to the front of Clarke’s shirt, where a silver chain disappeared beneath her shirt and where she tightly clutched whatever the chain held. 

Clarke nodded. 

Bellamy reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, “Clarke, I don’t know how to say this, but I did write back, or at least, I tried. But there was no easy way to say anything to a girl who had lost her father. ‘Thank you’ would never have been enough.”

Clarke shivered at his touch and his words. How on earth could her father’s heart still be beating in the chest of Bellamy Blake. A heart that had held infinite unconditional love for her was now keeping alive the man who lived to infuriate her. She shook her head in disbelief. There was no way that Bellamy had her father’s heart. The world wasn’t that small, and fate couldn’t have tangled them together that closely. 

But looking at Bellamy’s face, she knew it was true. He had admitted to getting the letter after all. 

“Clarke, I’m so sorry. About everything.” His hand was still on her shoulder, gently tracing soft circles. “About your dad, and the letter, the stupid cupcakes.” 

Warmth from his hand flooded through her body, his touch made her heart skip a beat. “And being a jerk to me every single day?” she added. 

His eyes flew up in surprise. “I wasn’t being a jerk, it was just friendly teasing.”

“Friendly?!” Clarke retorted, “Bellamy, you are the most infuriating human being I have ever met. You pick apart every single thing about me and make fun of me. I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve thought about quitting … And now this!” 

She stood up, throwing his hand off of her for the second time in that lunch break. Clarke groaned out loud, letting her emotion out. She realized now she could run up to the office, grab her things, and make a break for it. She could just tell Professor Jaha that she had come down with food poisoning. 

“Clarke, I’m sorry, it’s just —“ he stood up and followed her up the stairs. “Yeah, I was a jerk, but it was the only way you would pay me any attention.”

She whirled around at the top of the stairs to face him. “What?!”

Bellamy looked up at her, and sheepishly ran a hand through his dark curls. Clarke’s eyes were drawn to him, and for the briefest of milliseconds, she forgot to be mad at him, focusing instead on the stretching muscles in his arms, the way his shirt pulled taught over his abdomen, and how jealous she was of his hand - how many times had she imagined running her own hands through his dark curly locks. 

“Clarke, I like being around you. A lot. But you seemed hellbent on hating me. And teasing you was the only way you would actually talk back to me.”

“Seriously, Bell?” Clarke threw up her hands in frustration. “Hadn’t you ever thought about acting normal, and not like an ass, and then maybe we could have been friends? You are so —“ She cut off her speech when she noticed Bellamy’s shit-eating grin. 

“What now?” Her temper flared. 

“You called me Bell.” He smirked. He took a step up towards her. 

“So what, that’s your name.” Clarke shrugged. Oh, how she hated him! She felt the hot sensation of burning red anger rise inside. 

“Yeah, but you only ever call me Bellamy. Or jerk.”

“Ugh! So what?!” As he took another step closer, Clarke was over come with the need to reach out to him. What she couldn’t discern was whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him down the stairs. She looked down at her crossed arms, forcing her eyes not to look up at him. At those intense dark eyes veiled behind thick black frames. At that curly hair that was just close enough to touch. 

Bellamy’s smug grin widened as he reached the step right below her. They were only separated by less than an inch, only just not touching. 

“I know this is probably the absolute worst time for this,” Bellamy began, “But screw it - you told me to live on the dangerous side.” He leaned forward and closed the distance, finally touching her, his lips on hers. 

Clarke’s mind was flown into a fury. How dare he!? But it felt so right. He had just admitted to having her father’s heart! But the electricity from his touch flowed through her veins. She should pull away, and tell him off, that the timing was completely inappropriate. But instead, her body betrayed her mind. Or maybe she was finally acting with her heart instead of her head. Her lips began to move in motion with his, deepening the kiss. Her hands reached up to his shoulders, holding him close. When he brought his arm around her waist, she brought a hand to the nape of his neck and gently brushed the curls that began there. Time froze again in this moment, but this time, Clarke was awake. 

All too soon Bellamy was pulling away from her, allowing them both to catch their breath, but he still held her tight in his arms. 

“So…” he began, biting his lip in an effort to contain the grin that was quickly spreading over his cheeks. “Worst timing in the world aside…” 

Clarke rolled her eyes at him. 

He smirked again, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered. 

Clarke smiled. “Really?”

He nodded. 

“And here I thought you were being such an absolute jerk because you were a genuinely awful person. I never understood how you actually had friends, or how your sister could stand you.”

“No, I’m just a guy, and terrible at being normal in front of pretty girls. Somehow I managed to mess up everything I said to you. I was always trying to impress you by being funny, but I guess that backfired.” 

Clarke nodded her head in agreement as she untangled her arms. “As nice as this is,” she waved her arms between them, gesturing to what had just happened, “It’s still kind of weird. I mean, this morning you were the guy I dreaded seeing every day because you were so mean and unfairly hot. And now you’re the guy who has my dad’s heart, and says he wants to kiss me…” 

“Fair enough,” he agreed. They began to walk slowly back down the hallway toward their office. 

“But Clarke, don’t think I ever hated you. This heart could never hate you; it will only ever love you.” 

She felt his hand gently touch the small of her back as he guided her through the door of their office. She mulled over his words - wait! Had he just admitted to loving her? Who could have expected that! 

“Clarke, Bell! Is everything okay?!” Octavia was bouncing with worry, perched on Bell’s desk, a half-eaten take-out container beside her. 

“O, you remember that letter from the girl, who’s dad donated my heart?” Bellamy began.

Octavia nodded. 

“Well, it was from Clarke.”

Octavia’s jaw dropped. “Shut. Up.”

Bellamy nodded, “Her dad was my donor.”

Octavia let out a low whistle. “Holy crap. Clarke, that sucks about your dad. I’m so sorry!” She reached forward and pulled Clarke into a tight hug. “But he saved my brother’s life. I’ll be forever grateful for that.” 

Clarke pulled away and nodded, her eyes filling with tears. 

“Umm, I guess I’ll leave you two,” Octavia quickly packed up her bag, leaving behind Bellamy’s lunch. She gave him a quick hug, and disappeared as suddenly as she had appeared earlier. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Bellamy asked, as Clarke settled back down behind her desk. “Go grab you a coffee or something?”

“A coffee would be great, thanks. Black, please.” 

“I know.” He grinned at her before the office. 

Of course he would know her coffee order, he had always teased her about how her dark bitter brews made her a dark bitter person. She tried to focus on the documents in front of her, hoping to get through a least a little bit of work, but her mind was running wild with thoughts of Bellamy. Looking back, she realized that his teasing wasn’t as awful as she had made it out to be. Sure, a few jokes had crossed a few lines, but most of the teasing she brought upon herself - she definitely was an easy target when she came to work with her shirt buttoned to the wrong holes because she had been in such a rush, or when her klutzy self had slipped getting into her chair and had sent a stack of paperwork flying, requiring her to spend hours reorganizing the pile. And all of the teasing about her relationships and failure of a love life had probably been born out of jealousy. Looking back, she realized that all of the angry feelings she had felt for Bellamy were a part of something stronger, something more powerful. Clarke realized she had been so caught up in hating the smug and spiteful image of Bellamy that she had conjured, that she hadn’t realized she was falling for him. As much as she hated his teasing, the nickname ‘princess’ had grown on her, and she actually enjoyed the time they spent debating. Holy crap. She was falling for Bellamy Blake. 

_____

 

Bellamy had returned with the coffee, gracing her with a grin as he set it in front of her. They kept quiet, in an unspoken agreement to finish up their work for the afternoon. Clarke had to work extra hard to focus, especially when she was so tempted to look up. For once, there was no annoying tapping, the only sound was the quiet rustle of pages turning and the soft rhythmic ticks of Clarke’s father’s watch on her wrist. When Bellamy finally closed the book in front of him, and reached up stretch, she finally let her eyes wander, and she smiled in appreciation. 

Bellamy had walked her out of the building, giving her quick kiss - they had decided to take things slow. It was really weird after all, the whole sworn enemies to lovers feelings. Not to mention the draining emotional roller coaster of grieving the loss of Clarke’s father, but celebrating in the life his heart had saved. Weird was an understatement. 

Raven had completely flipped out when Clarke had told her the news that night. Though Raven admitted the shock was entirely from the connections made surrounding the heart - Raven had always known that there was something going on between those office mates. 

______

 

* Beep! Beep! Beep! *

Clarke shut off her alarm and smiled. This was the first time she had ever dreamed of Bellamy Blake and woke up smiling. For once, she was actually excited to go work and see him. It was surprising how much could change in a day. 

When Clarke arrived at the office (and one minute early, for the record), she found a steaming hot coffee waiting for her at her desk, and an adorable grin on the face across from her. 

She looked up and stuck her tongue out at him, and he smirked back. 

Clarke definitely was not going to get any work done today. That Blake sure was a handsome distraction. 

________

 

(Two years later)

Clarke was curled up on Bellamy’s chest as they lay on the couch. His shirt was off, revealing the thick scar that spread across his chest, and Clarke softly traced her fingers along the seam. As she leaned forward, the medallion that she still wore around her neck fell onto Bellamy’s chest, resting over his heart as if it knew where it belonged. 

At first it had been weird, and Clarke had a lingering thought in the back of her mind that constantly reminded her that it was father’s heart in her boyfriend’s chest. But as the weeks, and months progressed, it had become Bellamy’s heart. Now Clarke liked to think of it as her father offering his blessing from beyond the grave - because if Bellamy was worthy of receiving her father’s heart, then he was worthy loving her and gaining her heart in return. 

“I can’t believe it’s been seven years already,” she whispered softly. 

Bellamy placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I know. I was supposed to die seven years ago…” 

Clarke turned to face him, “Don’t say that!”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth, I mean, it was beyond my wildest dreams that a heart would become available. They said I was less than 24 hours from biting it.”

“Bell, don’t say that. You’re here with me now and that’s all that matters.” 

Clarke laid her head back down on his chest and felt the rhythmic beats of his heart. The beats were in harmony with the steady count kept by her father’s watch, still in place on her wrist, where it had been for seven years now. 

Seven years. 

The past two years with Bellamy had been spent moving on from the loss of her father. Looking back, she could see how her grief had hung over her like a dark cloud for those first few years - she had been so caught up in her personal loss that she had forgotten to live her life they way her father would have wanted her to. She still missed her father now, that would never go away, but it seemed healthier now that she had opened up her heart to love other people again. And here and now, lying in Bellamy’s arms, everything felt alright. And Clarke knew that the heart that beat in his chest had never stopped loving her, and it would continue to love her.


End file.
